Accidentally on Purpose
by Vicktionary
Summary: Some more one-sided Scout x Miss Pauling goodness. The first one was so much fun to write that I needed to make another one.
1. Coffee

The first time it happened, it was purely accidental. Scout was on his way back from a coffee-run when the weather decided that being cold, overcast and miserable wasn't quite enough. No, that simply wouldn't do. So it decided that it needed to be raining, cold, overcast _and_ miserable. In no time, the rain had gone from a weak sprinkle to a heavy shower. The young Bostonian was about to curse his luck, try and dash back to base with the hopes that he wouldn't spill too much coffee. It was hard enough that he had to memorise everybody's specific orders and the rain was just icing on the cake,

Demo passed up the offer (mostly because he was already passed out) and Sniper was simple enough; he wanted it straight and black, no muss no fuss. Soldier naturally wanted an Americano. Engi said whatever was fine, so long it had a good dollop of cream in it while Medic requested that he get a cup of tea for him instead. Something about heavy cream and clogged arteries that he didn't care to listen to. Medic also requested that he get the same for Heavy. Spy, on the other freaking hand, wanted something that he couldn't even pronounce, much less remember. Scout just pointed at whatever sounded the most pretentious and Italian. Finally, there was Pyro who- after having Engi translate for him- said he wanted a hot chocolate with fluffy marshmallows.

One might ask why the Scout was even bothering to do this. Then one would have to explain that he and Soldier had the bright idea to put an unbercharged brick into a blender in Medic's office. And even after being demanded to answer why- WHY did you do that, Scout?!- He still had no good excuse aside from 'It seemed right at the time'. Needless to say, Medic was so furious about the event that he demanded Scout and Soldier pay. So after Medic held that over his head this morning, Scout had no choice but to go on a fricking coffee-run to shut the man up.

However, just as Scout readied his legs for some serious sprinting back to base, he caught sight of Miss Pauling getting out of her car. She looked like she was just as annoyed with the rain as he was himself, trying to balance a thick pile of documents in her arms, shoulders haunched and huddled together from the sudden drop in temperature. Scout also happened to remember that Miss Pauling had been rather cross with him after his stunt with the brick. He also remembered that he's had a crush on her for a good while now and this was the perfect chance to score some alone time and cookie-points with her.

"Hey! Miss Pauling! Over here!" He called out to her, waving as he approached.

She squinted a little, trying to distinguish the nearing figure through the misting and wet lens of her glasses. "Scout? Is that you?"

"Theee one and only!" He grinned back, ear to ear.

His cocky behaviour didn't seem to elicit much of a reaction from her and Scout inwardly scowled at this. "What are you doing here? Is that... is that coffee?"

"Yeah, Medic made me go on a coffee-run. Y'know... after the..." He trailed off awkwardly, not wishing to remind Miss Pauling of why she should be mad at him.

Too late. She pursed her lips in irritation. "Uh-huh."

_Damnit..._ He thought, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he stared down at the ground.

"Look, I don't have time to stay and chit-chat. I've got to get back on the phone with the Administrator. She doesn't like to be kept waiting, I'm sure you know that. And it's cold out here..."

"Hold this." He suddenly blurted out, holding out his tray of beverages.

She blinked a little at the abrupt request but did so after a few awkward seconds of looking at him inquisitively. "You're not going to try and get me to bring this to the others, right?" She arched a sceptical brow. "I really don't have the time for-"

Her rant came to a sudden halt when Scout presented her with something else: his jacket. Again, she blinked, wondering 'Why?'.

"You looked like you were cold." Scout stammered out, feeling a familiar heat creep up to his cheeks. "I know it's a bit soaked." _Oh god, stop getting nervous_. "I mean, what good can a wet jumper do? It might get you even colder. I just thought that-"

"Scout." That snapped him out of his little ramble and brought his eyes back up to level with hers. He was surprised when what he saw on her face was a somewhat shy smile. It had been a while since Miss Pauling had received any kind of gentlemanly gesture, especially since she was constantly surrounded by a ring of killers. "Thanks."

He tried to grin and shrug it off like it was nothing.

After some more exchanging of her documents and his coffee cups, she had her hands free to slip Scout's hoodie on as a temporary raincoat.

"It's probably way too big for me." She remarked to no one in particular, shifting side to side as she tried to observe the way it fitted on her smaller frame. "How's it look?" Her eyes came back up to meet Scout's face, looking rather uncertain herself.

The heat came back to Scout's face and for a moment, he was mesmerised by the image of her in his clothes. "It looks..." He felt a lump in his throat. "You look beau-"

"OI, SCOUT!"

The moment between the two was smashed to bits. Scout made a mental note to bash the head of whoever it was with a baseball bat.

"I should get going." Miss Pauling said, as if she had just been brought back down to earth. She took back the bundle of documents she had temporarily passed to Scout and continued on her merry way, the cold breeze suppressing the rosy glow from showing on her pale cheeks.

"SCOOOUUUT!"

"WHAT?!" He finally screamed back.

"STAY OUT THERE ANY LONGER AND THE COFFEE'S GONNA GET COLD, MATE!"

Oh for heaven's sake. Scout begrudgingly dragged himself back to base, shoulders slouched and his expression visibly less content. When he got back inside, he shoved the tray into Sniper's arms.

"That _really_ couldn't have waited?"

Next time, Scout decided, he was going to supply his own source of Jarate into Sniper's usual brew.


	2. Cutting it Close

Some time had passed since his chance encounter with Miss Pauling and Scout had been playing the scene over and over again in his head. Any time he had a spare moment, whether it be on or off the field, during meetings or in his own spare time, his mind would drift back to that memory, perfecting and enhancing it more-so each time. He tried to remember how cold and wet it was that day, wondered if maybe he had caught the smell of her hair. And while he may not have remembered what she was wearing, exactly, he certainly kept the memory of her in his hoodie. He toyed with the idea of what she might look like in his other garments, from his baseball cap to his shirts. He realised, from there, it was a very slippery slope that lead to him thinking what she'd look like without any clothes, hers or his.

"Why do you have that stupid look on your face?"

His distant eyes refocussed and his features wrinkled into a scowl. "_Your_ face is freakin' stupid." He spat back at Sniper.

"Great comeback." Spy contributed dryly.

"You've had that same stupid look on your face all bloody week! What're ya thinkin' about? Girls in bikinis?"

"Well, he _is_ young, don't forget. He runs too fast to enjoy the finer things in life!"

It was one of those rare moments where Spy and Sniper shared a good laugh and Scout hated every second of it. But after the two had busied themselves with something else, he wheeled back to his previous train of thought.

He now wondered if she had a certain schedule that meant she would arrive to base at 10 on the dot, everyday. He spent a good week trying to keep an eye out for Miss Pauling, but also tried to be subtle about it. Which only meant that he would take an occasional peek out the window when he thought nobody was looking. He started persistently looking for excuses to leave or come back to base at around that frame of time. Whenever it was predicted to rain, he wondered if maybe he could re-create and pick-up where they left off.

Unfortunately for Scout, the little memory which his eager brain clung to was tossed and thrown in the trash the second Miss Pauling got back to work- which was every damn minute of every hour of every day. She had 99 problems that the Administrator wanted her to fix, and she'd be damned if a speed-freak Bostonian was one of them.

"Do you need something, Scout?"

"Huh?"

"You've been looking at me weird- all day. Is there something you need?" She repeated with heightened emphasis, peering at him over her glasses.

Scout's mouth hung open, looking much like a deer in headlights. But before he could even get a word out, she had been put off hold and resumed her conversation on the phone.

"-Hello, Administrator. Yes, yes, I've done that. It's all there on your desk, Miss- I mean- M'am. No, I haven't given Soldier his head back yet. Should I?"

And with that, she marched off and away to complete her duties, her kitten heels clicking off into the distance. Scout could only do so much but ogle her retreating form from behind. In no time, a lazy grin was stretched wide across the corners of his lips.

_Kapow!_

"Holy- what the fuuu-!" His focus was once again harshly brought back down to reality.

"It's that stupid look again, god damnit! Stay focussed, would ya?"

It was then Scout heard the thumping of a limp body hit the ground from right behind him. Apparently he had been so dazed watching Miss Pauling walk away that an enemy Spy had seized the opportunity to back-stab him. Had it not been for Sniper's quick trigger fingers, the butterfly blades would have claimed his life in mere seconds before he even knew what hit him.

"We're at war, son. Get your head in the game!" Soldier yelled at him as he ran past, smacking him once with his disciplinary whip.

_That was waaay too close..._

He darted a look of panic up at Sniper, the glacial pace of the entire situation still getting the best of his wits. Again, his mouth hung as he debated what to say, whether or not to thank him, or whether it was best just to play cool and leave as if nothing had happened. He ended up going with the latter, dashing off to make himself useful. It was embarrassing enough that his defences had been so low, and more embarrassing yet that this happened in public view.

"Bloody kids these days... Not even so much as a thank ya." The Aussie grumbled to himself as he re-focussed his rifle, keeping his trained eye out for alert.


	3. Definitely an Accident

"That was quite a performance out there."

Scout shot Spy a glare. "Don't start wit' me now."

"The way you handled yourself out there. Simply..." Spy gestured with his hand as if he was trying to search for the perfect word. The Bostonian rolled his eyes and started chucking his belongings back into his locker, with the hope that the sooner he was done here, the quicker he could avoid this.

"_Exquisite_." Too late. He'd already beat him to it. "Bravo, mon ami." A slow and lethargic clap.

Scout scoffed. "Please." It was the end of the day and he didn't need to hear this again. Sniper had already given him a painful reminder of this afternoon's events and how they transpired. "What do _you_ know?"

"I'd say I know more than you!" A sardonic chuckle. "I wasn't the one who encouraged Soldier to put a brick into a blender, after-all."

He just walked right into that, didn't he?

"Whatever. I'm off." He dismissed, slamming his locker shut. He just wanted to get on home, see his ma and pretend this whole day never happened.

"Buh-bye!" The Frenchie waved with a sickly sweetness. "Don't forget to watch your back! The door might hit you on the way out."

Scout grit his teeth and pushed his weight onto the door, busting it open with a kick in a not-so-subtle attempt to vent some of his frustration. Little did he know, however, that Miss Pauling was on the receiving end of this push. What followed was a feminine yelp and the clumsy tumbling of her weight onto the floor.

"Oh god!" Was all Scout managed to get out in his moment of shock. The rumbling of Spy's laughter was faint, but present, in the background.

"Miss Pauling!" He had gone into full-panic mode. Did he really just hurt a girl? A girl that he liked? "Are you okay? I'm so sorry- I didn't know- Are you hurt? Miss Pauling? Are you still conscious?"

More nonsense came spluttering from his mouth, some of which illustrated his gross misunderstanding in the human biology and its response to physical trauma. Medic would not have been proud.

"Scout!" She finally silenced him with an exasperated cry. She shifted her weight about on the ground before extending her delicate hand up to the young man. "Just help me up."

The blood in his face suddenly felt as if it had been ignited.

"Scout!" She repeated firmly when all he did was stare. This managed to kick-start his brain into gear and in one swift move, he pulled her up and off the floor. When she wobbled as she got back on her feet, he held her by the shoulders to still her swaying.

"Are you okay?" He asked again after she had re-stabled.

Miss Pauling seemed stunned for a few seconds. Then she laughed.

And then it was Scout's turn to look stunned. What was so funny? What did he say? Was _he_ so funny? A lazy grin etched itself onto his mouth. Yeah, it was definitely him. He's _such_ a funny guy.

"It was only a small fall. I'm fine. Besides, don't you all die on a daily basis here? This should be nothing in comparison."

"Yeah, but we're professionals." He puffed his chest, trying to pass off as the big and tough guy. He also sent out a secret prayer that Miss Pauling hadn't caught news of his minor screw-up earlier today and _what_ caused it.

But whatever she said next never properly met his ears. His wandering eye had caught glimpse of the shape of her legs outlined in dark stocking, and as they travelled up along the length of her slim calves, his attention started leaking like gas from a pipe; trying to be contained but failing more and more by the second. However, it was then he noticed the torn hole of stocking at her knee and the bright red abrasion on it.

"I've gotta go back to work, Scout."

There words hammered his mind back into the present. And as she turned, he caught a gentle hold of her wrist.

When she turned back to him in question, the rosy burn in his cheeks crept under his skin again. His mouth hung for just a few seconds, stalling. _Words, Scout, use them! Remember speaking?_

"I just can't let you go yet, Miss Pauling." He barely spat out without a stutter. When her brows knitted together into an inquisitive frown, he motioned down to her scratched knee.

Another small laugh. She almost sounded touched, had it not been for the underlying impatience of getting back to work ever-present in her tone. "I've told you, it's fine. Really."

"No." He insisted. "Come on, that's just not right. I did that to ya!"

"No- no, it's not your fault. You didn't know, don't worry."

What Scout decided to do next, he wasn't sure why he thought it was a good decision. In hind-sight, it was impulsive, childish, and possibly a little bit disrespectful to Miss Pauling's requests to return to her cramped office. But he just couldn't resist. When else would he get an opportunity like this?

Another feminine squeak was pulled out of her as he suddenly found herself hoisted off the ground, airborne in Scout's arms. "Scout- What are you- Scout! SCOUT!"

"Hold on tight!" Were his last words to her before he raced off at full speed.

"Oh my god! Scout- NO! Put me doooow-!" Her urgent request was dragged off into a girly scream as they whizzed off.


	4. Less of an Accident

Seconds later, she found herself begrudgingly following the young man's words of advise to cling on as tight as possible. She was sure she'd been in actual cars that weren't as fast as this. And when Scout started leaping high off the ground, she found her heart skipping a few beats and the adrenaline start to pour into her system.

Initially, she was furious, burning with outrage. Had she not been so scared off falling out of Scout's binding cradle, she would have slapped him across the face and kicked him where it _really_ hurt.

However, she found herself forgetting why she was mad when they started leaping off from buildings and onto another, each one progressively getting higher and higher. She had never seen the training grounds like this, she was usually only walking past, barely paying attention to much of her surroundings. The cell-phone glued to her hand with the Administrator constantly on the other line demanded at least 90% of her concentration.

She never realised that the place could be so beautiful from a bird's eye-view.

Her eyes were tightly squeezed shut when he first started running, but human curiosity tempted her into taking a small peek. It was only then she had realised Scout had scaled them off the ground.

"SCOUT!" She screeched again when she thought Scout had misplaced his footing, diving straight off a high surface.

_This is it. I'm going to die now, aren't I?_ She couldn't help but think to herself. She also revised whether or not she had prepared something from beyond the grave for the Administrator to excuse her sudden and unexpected death. She _had_ actually planned for situations such as these. But when she peered up to Scout's face and found a smug grin, her confusion multiplied tenfold.

"SCOUT! You're going to kill us both!"

"Wait for it!" Was all he said in return, that shit-eating grin still wide across his face.

No- _what?!_ She most certainly did not want to be in-line for her all too early demise. Worst of all, this wasn't even going to be a painless one. Objects falling high and fast from the sky have, after-all, been proven to hit the ground pretty darn hard. The thought was barely comforting.

No, she decided again. She didn't want to witness her final moments with the view of Scout's maniacal grin. She didn't want to know if she would be able to see limbs that were once theirs, now made independent primarily due to the force of gravity, fly off in all directions and into the distance. Heck, she just didn't want to plummet to her death, but apparently that was too big a request.

Her fingers turned pale white as she gripped hard at the fabric of the Bostonian's shirt, burying her face as much as she could into his chest. No no no, she didn't want to see this...

_Splash._

Wait- what?

_Sprinkle._

Is that my blood? Why is it cold?

After a few seconds, she dared herself to open her eyes. Slowly. She had been squeezing them shut for so long that any light felt sensitive, hitting her line of vision. When she found her vision was blurry, she panicked and squirmed, not knowing that it was just water droplets smearing her glasses. That was then how she found out that Scout still had her tight and secure in his arms.

What? This was making no sense...

"You're safe, Miss Pauling."

She screamed again, more in outrage than anything, when she found herself right in the middle of an active fountain. She squirmed and wiggled again when she heard Scout sniggering.

"That's not funny, you jerk!" A sharp hit to his chest and the young man keeled over, still in fits of laughter. His grip on her, however, faltered in the process. The next thing she knew, she was dropped into the water, Scout falling in with her. The bastard was still laughing.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?!" She kept trying to land blows on him, kicking the water up along the way, splashing them even wetter.

"You shoulda seen your face!"

"I was _scared_, idiot! That's what sensible people feel when they think they're going to di-"

A huge sploosh drenched her further.

When she regained some of her vision, her glasses pretty fogged by now, she watched Scout's smug grin glimmer with mischief.

"You- jack- _ass_!" She pelted puddles back at him. He started sniggering again. It was then she found herself biting hard on her lip. Was that a smile she felt tugging at her mouth? No- no way. She would not give that speed-freak the satisfaction.

Miss Pauling sent another huge wave of water in his direction. A smirk twitched her lip as she watched the impact of it force that stupid baseball cap of his off his stupid little head. She allowed herself to drink in the moment of her (albeit small) victory.

"...Scout?" For a moment, she was actually worried she had done something funny to his head. His eyes were distant and glazed over, his jaw dropped. This was quickly becoming very creepy.

"You did not. Just ruin. My baseball cap."

He started to lunge for her, and Miss Pauling screamed again, but this time it was laced with her escaping laughter.

"No! No! Don't come near me!"

More giggles. In retrospect, Miss Pauling tried to forget exactly how much she was laughing like a little school-girl. She figured that the adrenaline from their descent had wrecked her brain into a stunned stupor.

"You say you're sorry!"

Sniper, who had been giving his surroundings a scheduled patrol and look-over with his rifle, fell witness to their near-drunken teenage behaviour.

"So _that's_ where that stupid look keeps coming from..." He mused to himself, all alone in his little room.

"Got you again."

Sniper nearly jumped out of his skin, yanking his eye away from his zoomed-in rifle. But he already knew who it was.

"You _really_ need to stop doing that!"

"But you make it so easy." Spy cooed.

And with that, Sniper grabbed his Jarate and started chasing the Frenchman out the room, Spy chuckling like the wanker he was all the way.


	5. Mistake?

It felt like she had been whisked out of her current time and brought back to her even younger adolescent years. Here they both were, play-fighting in the water, grinning and giggling like a bunch of drunkenly euphoric idiots. They were both soaked to the bone, the wetted fabric of their clothes clinging to the two of them like a new layer of skin. She had long discarded her glasses off to the side, finding little use for them with the absence of having to read the fine print of every document she was put to analyse.

Scout was both extremely and pleasantly surprised to uncover such a youthful side of Miss Pauling. He had only ever seen her as irritable, rushed and stern. Now she was giggling wildly and splashing about the water like an 8 year old who had just discovered swimming pools. He stopped feeling so nervous around this new side of her, knowing that something about him and his antics had somehow gotten past her previously impenetrable exterior.

They would keep drifting closer and closer. Sometimes, she would lunge at him, corner and splash him and other times he would be chasing her in circles around the fountain; and he, of course, slowed down enough so she could keep 'winning' all these little races. It just wouldn't be fair to her without the handicap.

Finally, when he did 'catch' her again, it was by her hand. She laughed and struggled to yank free but he grinned, shook his head 'no' and pulled her in, circling an arm about her tiny waist.

"I've got you now." Was what he said with all the demeanour of a triumphant kid who had just won a chocolate bar.

And then it was Miss Pauling's turn to feel nervous, her turn to feel her heart race and the blood creep to her cheeks. She had been caught with her guard down and it dawned on her just how long ago it was she had been this close to another of the male gender. She may have seen Scout as nothing but a pesky little show-off before, but now he was starting to look... almost handsome. Boyishly charming, even. After having seen some of his softer sides, she had come to the conclusion that he wasn't nearly as bad as he seemed.

Her lips parted softly when she found herself at a total loss of words. Scout laughed in return when he realised that their roles had somehow reversed.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He couldn't help but tease.

The frown found itself back on her face, mouth opening again to quip him back with a negation. But this only made Scout laugh more.

"You look beautiful even when you're mad at me, Miss Pauling."

This wiped that frown clean off her face. Now it was back to that wordless shock, followed shortly by her bashfully avoiding his gaze. He ducked his head to meet her shy eyes.

"And you look even more beautiful when you're laughing."

This time her blush was clear as day on her cheeks. Scout would have been more sympathetic to her state of embarrassment if she didn't look some damn cute in it. He wished that she could come to work like this more.

"I..." Miss Pauling tried her tongue at speech, and try as she could, she couldn't quite bring herself to look up directly into Scout's sky blue eyes. Her eyes would peel their stare off her feet to try and bring it level with the Bostonian's, but when she saw nothing but that boyishly arrogant grin on his face (which she was starting to find uncomfortably charming), she couldn't handle the eye-contact.

The blush in her cheeks was burning, it made her dizzy. Suddenly, it felt like all the noise around them had faded. The only noise there was now was the pit-pattering of the fountain running in the background. But she still found this growing silence too heavy for her delicate shoulders to carry.

"Scout..." She tried to pass these moments off with a nervous laugh.

Then he kissed her.

It was sudden and something that shocked the both of them. Scout had gone against all better judgement and instead, gone with his gut. Miss Pauling was sent further in her state of wordlessness.

It was sudden, but it was soft as ever. Innocent and sweet, almost child-like. Scout tried to hold her in his embrace for as long as possible.

At first, she remained rigid against his lips, passive and unmoving. The initial shock took a moment to pass, but she was no sooner coaxed into a response, her eyes closing as she pushed back against the other's wet lips. She soon realised that the familiar feeling of being lifted off the ground was creeping back up on her.

But when Miss Pauling's logical part of her brain found the un-mute button, she gasped and pulled away completely in a sheer panic.

The growing tension in between them promptly shattered to pieces at their feet.

"I'm sorry." Scout spluttered out immediately.

When she remained silent, it sent Scout into a mutual wave of panic.

"I'm so sorry. Miss Pauling, I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry- I prob'ly shouldn't have done that. I don't mean to scare you like that!"

Miss Pauling still said nothing.

And this only made Scout feel worse. Did she hate him forever now? Why couldn't she just say something? _Anything?_

He found himself trying to stall again, but mid-way between speaking, he realised that it was probably best that he just leave. It felt too awkward and inappropriate to linger.

"I'll- I- uh... I'll let you get back to your work. I'll get outta your hair."

And as quickly as the moment died, Scout left Miss Pauling there in the middle of the fountain, vanishing into the night's distance.

Minutes passed with her alone, and she still didn't know what to say.


	6. Lamps

The following night's sleep was mostly sleepless for the two of them, though Miss Pauling had the better advantage to falling asleep purely due to exhaustion. Scout, left to his own devices, spent the time replaying the evening in his head, much like how he replayed the scene of their first encounter in the rain.

Surprisingly for him, his ma was still up by the time he got home. It appeared she had stayed up later than usual just to see her boy get in safely.

"Ma?" He looked puzzled. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"Don't you _'ma'_ me right now!" She pointed a finger at him, hand on her hip. "Where have you been? It's 2 in the morning!"

"I got held up at work, okay? It's no big deal."

"Who gets held up this late working in a cafe?!"

His eyes briefly shifted. "There was just a lot to clean up, y'know? Freakin' customers these days." He feigned a huff of disbelief. "Won't even pick up after themselves."

She did not look impressed.

"_Why_... are you soaked?"

Crap. Scout thought of every excuse in the book except for one to explain his lack of dryness.

"Oh... uh, you know... Rain." Yes! Water from the sky. _Perfect_. "It rained." _Now just sell it with a confident smile._

She crossed her arms. Uh oh, Scout thought. _She's onto me_.

"Then why is the laundry hanging outside perfectly dry? Hmm?"

"I... uh, cause..." He tried to stall, eyes darting about the room in an attempt to give him cues to work with. "Lamps." He finally said, quite lamely.

A tired sigh. "Look, I get it, okay?" She reached out to stroke his cheek affectionately, grooming back his damp mess of hair. "You're a big boy now. You wanna start your own life. You don't _have_ to tell me everything."

The boy felt guitly.

"You just can't expect me to feel okay about it when you come home looking like this!"

"I... I fell into a fountain." He gave in, rolling his eyes, admitting some of the truth.

"Sure you did, honey." But she just wasn't buying it. "Forget it for now... Just go get some dinner in you and get some rest. I left some carbonara on the stove."

His eyes lit up. "My favourite." He grinned, eyes warming from their stubborn defiance, a soft smile breaking. "Thanks, ma."

"Oh," She dismissed it and pulled her son into a firm hug. "Anything for you, sweetie."

And with that, she kissed him on the cheek before making her way back to her room.

No matter how badly his evening may have ended, at least he had his mother's cooking and spoiling to come home to. He felt especially grateful of this as he tuck into the hot meal of pasta she saved over for him, not wanting to imagine exactly what he'd be if it wasn't for her. So at the very least, even if he only got a total of one hour's sleep that night, he went to bed with a warm and satisfied belly.

Now, getting out of bed the following morning was not the hard part of the day. He had woken up to far worse circumstances- namely, Soldier blowing a buff banner right in his ear first thing out of bed; "Take your breakfast like a man!" were the words of wisdom he shared when asked on why he did that to begin with.

No, the hardest part was convincing himself that nothing would be awkward between him and Miss Pauling, should they run-into each other. So, in order to avoid this, he took the precaution of arriving to base 15 minutes later than he normally would with the pre-tense that his alarm broke. When this excuse reached Sniper's ears, he scoffed and shook his head at the Bostonian, a knowing look in his eye.

"What's _your_ problem?"

"He lives in a van." Spy supplied swiftly, without looking up from his morning paper.

The Aussie fixed his scowl onto Spy and Scout snorted with laughter.

"Even Heavy lives a life with better standards than you." Now a glare from the Russian, then a hushed "_Ignore him_" from his neighbouring pal the Medic. "I'd say it's time to sort your life out, non?"

"Yeah, I live in a van. So what? Do you get in the shower with _that_ gimp-mask on?"

Scout started sniggering, nudging Engi in the ribs to get him to join in on the fun.

The Frenchie tossed his newspaper down onto the table, fixing Sniper with a look of his own. "Oh, Snipeur." He coed, "Do you think of me getting in the shower often? I had no idea you felt this way about me."

"OH-HO!" Demo suddenly roared with laughter (nobody even knew he was conscious), slamming his fist onto the table as he pointed at the marksman. "They're gon'ta haf' ta take you to the Medic for that burn!"

Spy smirked, pleased with himself.

"S'alright, buddy." Engi patted Sniper on the shoulder, doing his best to keep himself from cracking up. "We're all men here."

"I think that might be the problem!" Scout suddenly interjected with a snorting laugh, which in turn finally broke Engi's concentration and sent him into fits of giggles as well. "Get it, Snipes? It's cause you're _gay_."

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer Micky?"

And then Engi and Scout doubled over in laughter, wheezing and slapping their knees.

"Oh, alright then. Is that how you wanna play it?" Sniper stood from his chair, not looking pleased at all. "Mind explaining to the group what you were doing with Miss Pauling in the fountain last night?"

Scout froze.

Then all eyes present in the room turned on him.

A chorus of immature 'ooh's and 'aah's rose from the table of men, some bits of breakfast being pelted at him as confetti. Spy arched a curious brow.

"And when did _this_ happen?"

"Really? Her? I thought she'd be a bit old for your taste."

"She's not old, doofus!." He tried to defend her, but probably just dug himself into deeper water.

Another series of enthused cat-calls.

Finally, the door swung open and the missing member of their crew marched right on in, distracting the crowd from their rather inappropriate interest in Scout's potential love-life which may or may not have involved a fellow colleague of theirs.

"Men of war!" Soldier addressed them all, oblivious to what had been cooking before he walked in. "I have an announcement to make so you best stop doing what you're doing and pay attention because I refuse to repeat myself!"

"So he suddenly thinks he's boss?" Scout couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"He thinks we are on the moon. Who cares what he thinks?" Spy muttered back.

Mistake.

"Can it, maggots! Or I'll do to you what I did to my heads when _they_ refused to listen." He swooped in close to Spy, snatching the paper he was reading and crumpling it in his gravel-soiled hands, his voice swooping to a low threatening tone. "I will carve deeper and bigger holes into your ears until your sorry excuse of a brain falls _straight _out of it."

Medic was unphased. That was basically another Wednesday for him.

But Spy didn't take to it so warmly. "Enchanté." He slurred back in sarcastic response.

"I don't speak Swedish, _pal_."

Spy looked incredulous. Sniper snickered at his expense.

"So what's the big idea?" Engi prompted Soldier to get back on track.

"You all need to be made aware of what I have just discovered! It cannot wait!"

"It will wait." A much more feminine voice came from behind him and if one hadn't known better, they would've sworn Soldier was pouting in disappointment. Scout, however, was too busied with anticipation to be concerned with such minor details. There was only one person that voice could've come from, only one possibility. And this was the moment he had been dreading all day, the one he had been mentally preparing for all this time.

"Miss Pauling will take it from here!" Soldier announced.


	7. No, Pyro, no!

_A/N:_

_(Just a quick shout-out to a guest going by 'MANN'- thank you for such a sweet review (I can't reply to directly to guest reviews)! I'm so happy you're enjoying this story so much. The kind words really warmed up what was a really cold morning in the UK. :) Also, it was the first time anybody's wished me a Happy Thanksgiving, so thank you so much again and I hope you have the same! Eat all that turkey on my behalf!)_

_Onto the story:_

* * *

The next minute felt like an eternity for the young Bostonian. His heart fluttered and quickened as he heard the shuffling of her feet take their first steps into the room. He couldn't even bare the thought of looking at her, in this very moment. He just knew that this was going to be so awkward, and if one of his team-mates let slip about what Sniper saw, he wasn't ever going to hear the end of it for a very long time.

He kept preparing himself for the inevitable, eyes glued permanently to the desk beneath him as his ears stayed alert for the explosion he was convinced would happen.

"Oh, Miss Pauling! You look a little tired. Something keep you up last night?"

"Guys- come on! Don't-"

"I'm pretty sure we all know it wasn't some_thing_ that kept her up last night, but some_one_..."

And suddenly, all eyes turned onto Scout, and he froze in fear. He could actually feel the blood draining from his face and his complexion had taken on a comical shade of white.

It also took a few seconds for it to click into Miss Pauling's mind, who up till that point was just puzzled. But when the realisation dawned on her as it did Scout, she quickly brought up her hand to her mouth, bashfully trying to shield her face from the spectating crowd.

When Scout finally did summon the courage to look at Miss Pauling in the eye, she had already beaten him with a look of disbelief.

"What did you tell them?!"

Oh god, no. This is bad. "I- I said nothing!"

"Yeah, like I'm going to believe that!"

"Miss Pauling, I swear, it wasn't me!"

"How do they know?!"

A few snickers from the group and a barely suppressed laugh from Spy.

"It's okay, you two. Your secret is safe with the rest of us."

"Scout, I can't believe you would-"

He quickly rose from his chair. "I didn't! I swear to you I didn't!"

But it was too late. She was already storming away.

"No, Miss Pauling! Please, wait up! Let me explain!" He tried to follow after her, but before he could follow her out the door, Pyro busted in out of nowhere with his flamethrower pointed directly at the young man.

He froze again.

And before he could think of a nice way to ask Pyro to step aside, the masked arsonist had already gone ahead and ignited his weapon. Right in his face.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-!"

He scrambled, his hands desperately trying to get a grip of the closest object to him. He had thought that maybe, he could harness it into a temporary blunt weapon. Just something to knock the Pyro out for a few moments. However, as he struggled and struggled, his hands came to nothing but a flat surface beneath him.

He scratched and writhed some more, but would only find purchase on that same flat surface.

Okay, surely one of his team-mates would step in to intervene, right? He knew they were all a little bit wrong in the head, granted, but one of them had to value his life for whatever it was, right?

Wrong.

Much to his dismay, a chorus of laughter erupted from the rest of the group instead. But this time, it all sounded a little blurry. Scout wasn't sure if it was his state of panic that did this, or that perhaps the fire had reached the insides of his ears and damaged his hearing.

Yet as he kept struggling, the wave of laughter from the group became softer and softer. Soft... Just like what he kept clawing at. Quite soft, actually. It was almost... pleasant.

Wait, wasn't he supposed to be burning to a crisp?

"PYRO, NO!"

He jolted upright with another scream. His heart was beating right out of his chest and he was panting heavily, sucking in each breath with a ragged and uneven pace. His body felt damp and cold.

The next thing Scout noticed was that he was no longer in the room with his team-mates. Instead, he was greeted with the plain and dull walls of what appeared to be a very small cubicle. When he realised this, his struggling hands slowed to a halt. It was also then he realised that what he had been scratching all this time were the bedsheets beneath him.

"Wha-" His groggy mind couldn't seem to make sense of any of this. "Where am I?"

Then the door suddenly swung wide open.

"Who's there?!" He jumped at the sound, quickly assuming a combative stance from where he sat on the narrow bed.

What greeted him next was a mildly odd look from Miss Pauling. "Just me..."

"Miss Pauling?" He couldn't believe his eyes. "Is that really you?"

She walked over and pinched his cheek. Hard.

"Ow! Hey-! What was that for?!"

She bore no semblance of remorse. "There, you're not dreaming."

He froze once more as his brain tried to make sense of his surroundings. It looked like the sun was beginning to set and Scout wondered just how long he had been out cold. It also occurred to him that he never remembered passing out or falling asleep in the first place. And the last he remembered of his day today, it was still bright and early in the morning.

"Drink this." Miss Pauling held out a glass of water to him and gratefully, he clasped it in his shaking fingers, downing its contents in a matter of seconds. He was still panting.

"What happened exactly?"

"Well..." She trailed off with a sigh. Scout could tell this wasn't going to be a short story.


	8. Some Catching Up To Do

_On the previous chapter:_

"What happened exactly?"

"Well..." She trailed off with a sigh. Scout could tell this wasn't going to be a short story.

* * *

"I still don't know the details too well myself but... We were about to have a meeting today and you just sort of fainted 5 minutes in. Out of nowhere, as well."

The Bostonian frowned as he tried to recall any of what she told him, racking his brain. This morning... What happened this morning? He certainly remembered waking up half an hour late and his mother trying to force a good breakfast of scrambled eggs on toast down his throat before he ran off to his 'job'. He remembered that he also got to base a little late.

"Why did I faint?"

Miss Pauling shrugged lightly. "Your guess is as good as mine."

A small pause fell in between them and they found themselves holding each other's gaze.

"Anyway," She continued, breaking the contact and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We didn't really realise you were unconscious until Soldier started trying to talk to you."

He gulped a little. "Uh oh..."

"And you just wouldn't answer. So he got a little frustrated and started whacking you with his shovel."

"That explains the headache..." He gingerly clutched at his head, noting that it was definitely bruised.

"When you didn't even respond to being hit, that's when we all got a little nervous. Medic thought you had a stroke. ...I think." Her brows furrowed gently in thought. "He said a lot of things in Latin- and German, I'm not entirely sure what he thought."

"So why am I here and not in Medic's room?"

"Ah..." She almost looked a little guilty, like she had been caught.

This intrigued him. "What is it?" He urged.

She sat at the side of the bed with another sigh. "Well, Medic did everything he could to see if you were okay. But your pulse and blood pressure were just fine."

"Right." Scout was just relieved Medic didn't get the chance to stick more needles in him.

"So I figured you only passed out because you were so nervous about bumping into me." Her brows furrowed again, weighed by the guilt.

His heart fluttered as the memories of last night came rushing back and suddenly, the two were too shy to meet each other's eye.

"I'm sorry things got so awkward last night." Nervously, she fiddled with her hair again.

"Miss Pauling, no." Scout pushed his weight up on the bed so he could sit up. "Look, _I'm_ sorry. I probably shouldn't have done half the stuff I did last night."

"That _is_ true." Her eyes shot up to his face to cast him a pointed look. However, when his eyes fell on hers, the stern look on her face softened with a shy smile. "I mean, my knee still hurts."

He broke into a coy grin. "I tried to apologise for that."

"By picking me up against my will and becoming Spiderman?"

"You know Spiderman?" His expression was renewed with surprise.

"Scout..."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

A short laugh broke out in between the two and it put their mutual unease just a little bit at rest.

"So yeah, the short-hand of the story is, the meeting got cancelled and I agreed I'd look after you till you woke up. Medic had no complaints, said he had to work on something else, anyway, with Heavy and Engi."

When Scout abruptly doubled over, it cut Miss Pauling's story even shorter and she quickly tended to him. "Scout? What's wrong?"

"Oh god..." He muttered to himself cryptically, as if something had gone horribly awry.

"Is everything okay? Where does it hurt?" She immediately straightened up. "Do you need some painkillers?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Scout could recognise one of Medic's first-aid kits sitting on the bed-side table. It looked like he hadn't left him and Miss Pauling with absolutely nothing, after-all.

"No, no..." He croaked, and grabbed Miss Pauling by the wrist before she could drift any further away from him.

This caught her off guard, quickly spinning around to meet his face again.

"That's not it." He tried to re-assure her, but he didn't look too confident. He felt what he had to tell her was probably worse. "Okay, I gotta tell you something... I don't think you're gonna like it."

When he found it hard to look at her straight in the eye, she sat down by his side again, a touch of concern brushing her features.

Scout sucked in a deep breath and pushed himself back up to an upright position. "Look, try not to take this the wrong way, but..."

"Scout, what _is_ it? Stop beating around the bush."

His features sank a little, giving her that 'don't say I didn't warn you' look. "I think Sniper saw us last night."

When Miss Pauling didn't respond with the shock he was anticipating, he assumed that she didn't quite understand.

"You mean just after yesterday's wave? Yeah, I know. I saw him, too. He likes to hang back for a bit before he goes home. Well, to his van."

Scout shook his head. "No. I mean, yes. He saw us then, as well, but..." He frowned as he pronounced these words to try and lay particular stress on them. "He saw... _us."_

She frowned. "What's your point?"

He held back a scowl as he had to spit it out for her, not wishing to bring it up so crudely. "In the fountain. He saw us in the fountain."

That was when she gasped. And that was when Scout knew she _finally_ caught his drift.

An awkward pause.

"How- How do you know?"

"He told me before the meeting."

"And you're sure that this actually happened?"

Scout wasn't sure if he should have taken offence to that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It just sounds like you weren't even sure _when_ you fainted. Maybe what you thought you saw was just a dream?"

He could see the hopeful look on her face, but decided to say nothing to encourage her denial.

Just as well, Miss Pauling wasn't willing to take her chances. "Why would he tell you this, anyway?"

He looked sheepish. "We were kinda teasin' him about Spy. Well, no. Spy was teasin' him about Spy. We just poked fun at him."

She sighed and pressed her hand against her forehead. "What are you? Five?"

Scout gave her his best wide and innocent grin, hoping to disarm her disappointment with his boyish charm. Of course, this usually only worked on his mother.

What he got in return was a smack on the arm. "Ow..." He whined a little, nursing the sore spot. "Come on, I'm sick! You don't hit a sick man!"

"You _are_ a sick man."

"Oh-ho! Damn. That's cold!" He clutched at his heart as if he had been struck. Scout swore he could see the beginnings of a smile crack at her lips.

"But about last night..." He picked off where they dropped the ball, tugging at her wrist to grab her attention. She was reluctant to look at him properly, and awkwardly she pulled her hand away from his.

She got back up on her feet, as if to leave. "I think it's best we pretend it never happened."

Scout felt something in his chest sink. "What? Why?"

"Because!" She snapped, "I'm not supposed to do _anything_ like that. It would be extremely unprofessional of me. Plus, what would the Administrator say?"

"Oh, look. Forget her!"

"Forget her?! I think you know well by now that she's not to be reckoned with. You don't say no to her. You just don't!"

Scout clutched at his head again as if another headache was forming. "Just try to freakin' forget that for a second here!" This time, he pulled his weight on the bed some more until he was sitting where Miss Pauling sat a mere moment ago.

She looked at him exasperatedly. "Why?!"

"'Cause you can't tell me you didn't feel anything last night!"

And then a colder, sterner look glided over her features. "Yes, I can."

He felt another cold blow to his chest, but he grit his teeth and suppressed all the voices that were telling him to just give up. "You're sure about that, girly?"

Miss Pauling crossed her arms defiantly, signalling 'yes', she was sure.

"Alright," Scout joined her, now on his feet. "Then prove it to me."

"_Prove_ to you?" She repeated as if he had just uttered the dumbest thing said in human history. "And how exactly do you propose I do that? I just told you that-"

"Kiss me."

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "Do _what_?"

Scout spread his arms wide open, as if telling her to give him her best shot. "Kiss. Me." He repeated, slower and louder. "If what you say is true, then you won't have a problem showing me it is."

"No!" She backed away from him a touch. "Have you even read an ethical code? This is what they call sexual harassment! Do I need to get Soldier to give you that lecture again? 'Cause I'll do it!"

But Scout simply smirked that smug smirk of his. Even in the face of defeat, you never show your wounds, was what he learned from day one. "What? Scared you'll lose?"

"Lose? This isn't a competition, Scout!"

"All I'm hearing is that you can't!" He taunted, looking cockier as ever by the second.

Miss Pauling rolled her eyes, "Oh, for God's sake."

And just like that, she marched up to the Bostonian to grab him by the shoulders, pulling him in so she could plant a hasty and reluctant kiss on his mouth, standing on her tip-toes to reach his height. She told herself that it would only be for a second- wax on, wax off. She'd be out of there before he could say another word. But just as she was about to pull away, Scout pushed back against the lip-locked embrace.

"Mm-!" She struggled initially, but Scout stroked soothing patterns along her cheeks to her jaw. "Not so fast." He whispered against her lips, grazing them ever so softly before planting another tender kiss. And within seconds, Miss Pauling felt her eyes flutter shut. Her hands that were once trying to push Scout off of her were now being held by his in between their bodies.

The feeling of weightlessness consumed her once again and it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

And just as things started heating up a little more, Scout slowly withdrew from the embrace.

In a daze, her eyes re-opened and they searched Scout's features, only to be met with another one of his grins.

"I win." He whispered.

The grin wasn't the one she was accustomed to, however, neither cocky or arrogant. Instead, the grin seemed genuine and sincere, filling her with a certain warmth.

Miss Pauling, in the back of her love-addled mind, knew that she would come to regret this. But faced with the moment, she couldn't resist closing the distance between her and Scout once more. She wanted to feel like she was floating again, like everything else just didn't matter, even if it was only for a few minutes.

The bastard certainly won this round.


	9. The Admin Is Always Watching

_[10-12-13 Just made a small formatting edit.]_

_Okamilover:_ Nice game choice. But I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I'm really just so surprised that anyone is reading what I write. I posted these fics with little expectation of them ever being seen by more than 3 people. So yes, I'm extremely grateful for your time and everyone else's. It's been a lot easier to update frequently as well, lately. Exams are over and I'm officially on holidaa-ay!

So yes, just another shout-out to all my readers as well- have a big big thank you! :) And Happy Holidays!

_Onto the story..._

* * *

It was quite late at night when the two had managed to part lips and part ways. They both agreed that Scout should leave now, before the others started getting suspicious, although it was clearly against both their wills to stop. But better this than the risk of getting caught together next morning. If Sniper really had seen them, it was best not to fuel the fire of the team's suspicion and curiosity.

"Hold on..." She stopped Scout before he left. "What're you going to tell them?"

"I'm gonna tell them I just woke up."

"Okay. We can work with this. Tell them you were just over-worked and needed the long nap."

Scout grinned lazily. "Cool." But he was too busy watching her lips move.

"And I was out of the office for most of the time." She stressed on this. "I was too busy to even keep an eye on you. You let yourself out."

"Got it." A mock-salute.

If they were going to lie, Miss Pauling made damn well sure that they would at least tell the same one.

Yet, what was simply a couple of hours, felt like 2 whole days spent on vacation in some remote but exotic island where neither of them spoke the native tongue. It's as if they had completely forgotten about life outside of their residing room, and at some points they had even forgotten to breathe. Her lips had become sore and tender, she realised with each and every new kiss, but the rising feeling in her chest was simply too irresistible to stop.

"Same time tomorrow?" Scout asked, just before he stepped out the door.

Miss Pauling stood there staring at him again but this time, the Bostonian learned to be more patient. After a few moments, she nodded with a shy smile.

"See you then, Beautiful." He winked with a cocky grin and in a matter of a few seconds, he was gone.

"God..." She whispered to herself after his departure, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Her cellphone rang before she could contemplate that thought some more, making her jump in fright. However, instead of lunging immediately for the device as she normally would, she stared wearily at it for a few seconds, as if it would blow up on contact to her fingers.

How could she forget she still had a job to do? War takes no coffee breaks, it only takes time to re-assess and improve. Had her phone gone off earlier and she was just too distracted to notice? She really hoped not, otherwise there would be hell to pay.

"Damnit." She hissed through grit teeth, trying to get a hold of herself in her state of disorientation. Her mind was still reeling and the butterflies in her belly hadn't quite settled completely. She sucked in a deep breath to calm herself down, reminding herself that she simply couldn't afford to fall apart right now. "Come on, get it together... You can do this." And when she felt her senses reassemble,

"Yes, Hello, Administrator!"

She started to re-arrange her glasses, straighten her clothes and fix her hair, as if the woman on the other line could see her current physical state of mess. And somehow, even though she told more lies than direct orders (and that was a _lot_), she felt uneasy lying to the Administrator. She wasn't even sure there was a lie out there that the Administrator herself hadn't heard or told. The only person she could think of that even came close to the Administrator's talent of weaving and detecting lies was Spy. And the Administrator even had _him_ in her lap.

"Yes, I'll get that to you on your desk asap. It's in my hand right now. I'm out the door. See you so-"

_Click._

The woman had already hung up.

* * *

"You're 3 minutes late."

"Yes, I realise. I'm sorry."

"And it took you 4 rings longer to answer my call."

"My hands were tied."

An irritable sigh. "The papers?"

"Papers?" Miss Pauling blanked, her stare becoming vacant, completely forgetting that she was holding said papers in her hands. "Oh! Oh, yes. Of course."

The Administrator did not look impressed, her brow arching with a critical dissatisfaction. "What has gotten _into_ you?"

Briefly, the younger avoided the other's eyes as she placed the requested stack of papers on the desk before her. "Nothing." A feigned care-free smile. "It won't happen again."

The woman's gaze fell sharp on Miss Pauling, and for the few seconds those eyes were on her, she felt completely naked. But she tried her best to remain innocuous, maintaining an upright posture and a fresh smile. She knew, however, that the Administrator could already smell something fishy- she knew that something had changed, she just couldn't put her finger on it yet. And so, those cold eyes burned harsher as the elder tried to discern any clues on her physical being.

Any moment longer and Miss Pauling would think she'd freeze to stone.

"You can go."

Finally, she was released from the prison of her analytical stare as the Administrator spun in her seat, turning to face the giant screen before her instead.

She didn't need to be told twice, promptly exiting the office before the calm demeanour she so painstakingly put together in the first place fell apart into pieces.

What Miss Pauling wasn't aware of, unfortunately, was that the Administrator had already decided to take investigative action.

"Red Spy," She drawled into the phone, "I have a job for you."


	10. I Spy

_[14-12-13] Typo sweep. Cleaned up a few things here and there._

* * *

With Miss Pauling blissfully unaware of the Administrator's plans, life continued as smoothly as it could for a bunch of warring mercenaries. Scout and Pauling stuck to their plans of secrecy and continued meeting up again most days after each wave of battlements. They would make compromises in their schedule just to break-up the pattern; to try and appear less suspicious. If Scout was missing every evening, they knew the team would smell something. The same applied to Miss Pauling.

That said, they still had no idea what Sniper knew or didn't know. The two of them were too afraid to bring it up so Scout tried to avoid getting in the Aussie's way that week.

At times, they would arrange their rendezvous well past midnight. They were just like a couple of teenagers- Scout would sneak out of bed and Miss Pauling would leave her bedroom window open for him to climb through. Sometimes, she fell asleep during the time she was anticipating his arrival. And during those times, Scout sometimes skipped the option of waking her up in favour of tucking himself in beside her just so he could cradle her sleeping body throughout the night. As soon as they both woke up, they would part ways and arrive to base separately at different times.

Miss Pauling also held a very strict policy of forbidding him to shower at hers, making a request that if he really needed to, he should bring his own set of toiletries.

"Spy will know right away if we show up smelling of the same body wash."

"Come on, you really think he'll notice?"

Miss Pauling dead panned him.

"It's just a lil' creepy, don't you think?"

"He stalks people for a living and then he stabs them in the back. Creepy is his M.O."

"Alright... Fine, fine."

She also made the effort to stop wearing perfume, so as not to rub her scent off on Scout.

Whenever they had a late night rendezvous, Scout sometimes downed a couple cans of energy drinks beforehand to keep _himself_ from falling victim to sweet sweet sleep. On those occasions, Scout wouldn't be Miss Pauling's favourite person on earth.

"Hey, Pauling, hey-" He would nudge and poke at her relentlessly. "Wake up, come on!"

She would usually respond with a tired, "Mmrf."

So when that failed, he would start jumping on her bed. "Not gonna stop till you get up!"

"Ow!" The constant rippling of the bed would throw her clean off the bed. When she finally peeled herself off the floor, she grabbed her glasses off the night-stand just so she could glare at him properly.

"Oh good, you're up!"

"I hate you right now."

"I'm fine with that. Can we still make out?"

A pillow was firmly introduced to his face.

On some level, the two of them were aware that this couldn't go on forever. Whether it be because one of them loses interest or because it just became too difficult and frustrating to sneak around. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but there was an expiry date looming over their youthful romance. And now that the Administrator had taken action against her suspicions on Miss Pauling, their happiness was doomed to expire in however long it took Spy to unearth their secret affair.

The Administrator had upped Red Spy's income two-fold to keep him motivated on his task, along with some mundane parking benefits. When he tried to angle for more days off, she cut him off the line. That's not to say, though, that he wasn't intrigued by her request. Miss Pauling had always been the perfect assistant and the plane-Jane behind the lines. The fact that she would dare do anything to displease the Administrator was far beyond his line of expectation.

"You really believe that she is hiding something from you?" He was sceptical at first. And even though, the woman wasn't in his line of sight, he could detect the chilled quality of her tone over the phone.

"You of all people should know that appearances can be deceiving. Will you do it or not?"

"But of course, Madame."

So any time that he had a moment spare or a window of opportunity (like say, after a scheduled team meeting), he would pretend to leave. But he would actually linger, just to watch her next movements. He would, of course, go under disguise as he tailed her, usually opting to assume Engi's appearance. If he was mid-wave, he would target enemy Sniper, back-stab him and assume his form. Then he would very illegally borrow his rifle and do his spying from afar, completely hidden in plain sight. The Administrator would often call him to say whenever Pauling had left the office and in return, and he called back to log her activities upon her demand.

It didn't take him long to confirm that the Administrator had a real reason to be suspicious. Miss Pauling had all the body language and behaviour of somebody who had something to hide. She was constantly watching her back and checking her surroundings, exactly right before she would make a disappearance from the crowd. Spy couldn't help but wonder- as a woman who was working with a ring of killers everyday, what could she possibly have to hide? What was so bad that she had to keep it from the Administrator?

"You were right. She's hiding a secret."

"Don't tell me what I already know and start telling me what I _want_ to know. What is she up to?"

Suddenly, he went quiet. When the Administrator tried to pry about this abrupt silence, he told her "I'll call you back" in hushed tones and hung up.

Miss Pauling was about to meet someone, he didn't know who, but he just knew she was expecting someone. Who the hell could it have been? If he didn't know better, he'd say she was waiting on a drug supplier. Just any moment now and all mysteries will be revealed...

"You're late."

"Yeah, sorry. Got caught up in a headlock with Heavy when he caught me tryin' to steal his sandwich."

"Why would you do that?" A critical tone.

Scout remained silent for a few moments, then sheepishly he offered with brown paper-bag in hand, "To get you lunch?"

Pauling sighed, feeling a familiar tension in her forehead. "Did anyone see you?"

"No way. I ran a mile out just to get here."

Scout leaned forward to Miss Pauling, as if trying to catch her lips, but she stopped him just in time and pushed him away.

"Are you _sure_?"

Spy made an extra effort to stay as still as he could, remaining cloaked under the effects of his Dead Ringer.

"Yesss, I'm sure..." And Scout was peacefully oblivious. "Can I kiss you now? I've been thinkin' 'bout you all day!"

Miss Pauling couldn't help but smile. Scout took pride in being the one to bring it to her face.

"Theeere it is!" He grinned from ear to ear. "That's what I like to see."

Finally, the distance disappeared between them. Miss Pauling stood on her tip-toes to reach the other's height, and Scout met her halfway, resting his hand on the small of her back to bring her even closer.

And had Spy the ability to truly react right now, his jaw would have dropped all the way to the floor. He came expecting Miss Pauling to be revealed as a double agent, or in the midst of a drug-deal, perhaps. A part of him realised the irony that had this been drug-scandal, Pauling's chances of surviving the Admin's rage would have been far more likely. But this? A secret romance? With _Scout_? This was just too rich.

While the two were sufficiently distracted, he fished out the camera from his pocket and snapped a few shots. If he was going to tell the Administrator something as unexpected as this, he knew he would need some cold hard evidence to follow suit with his eye-witness claims.

It was also then that Red Spy realised he had a decision to make. He suddenly held far more power in his hands that he had bargained for. Sure, he could skedaddle like a good young lad back to the Administrator with her request recorded on camera. But on the other hand, he had some pretty powerful blackmail in his possession. Spy wondered just how much this secret was worth to the happy couple, and whether that worth was bigger than the Admin's bid.

Which hand dealt the bigger reward?


	11. I know you know

_It's been a while, hasn't it? Christmas has kept me really busy these past few weeks. I've also hit a bit of a writer's block, but I think I'm slowly working out of it now. I hope all of you had a lovely holiday! Have a belated Merry Christmas!_

* * *

"Miss Pauling, I, uh... I've got some news."

"Uh-huh." Pauling didn't even look up from her desk. "Delivery of 'your package' doesn't count as news, just so you know."

"Some bad news."

She gave a tired sigh, something about her seeming unsurprised. "What did you do?"

"Well... It's not exactly what _I've_ done." Scout tried to stall, scratching the back of his head.

"Right..." Not even the benefit of the doubt.

"It's kinda... more a situation thing."

"The last time you told me that, you had to explain to me that you and Soldier had somehow managed to liquefy a solid brick."

"No, no- It's not like that. I swear! This is just-"

"Scout-" She snapped, dropping her pen and meeting his eye sharply. "As you can see, I'm not exactly free to chat all day with you. Where's the poop?"

Scout made a face. "The poop?"

"Whenever you do something wrong, you look like a puppy trying to hide the mess they made. So tell me, where's the poop?"

"It's not something I did, I'm tellin' ya!"

"Scout." She repeated tiredly, "I don't have _time_ for this."

He looked hesitant, but something about that very look instantly told Miss Pauling that it was worse than she initially thought.

"Scout, _what_?"

And with a heavy sigh of defeat, the young lad fished a few thin sheets out of his pocket and dished it onto the table.

The look on Miss Pauling's face quickly went from concern to cold dead fear. Scout couldn't bear to face it, resenting the fact that he had to be the one to deliver such a grave message. Red Spy certainly loved making people do his dirty work for him. Just like that time the photos of him with his Ma in an extremely compromising situation were 'accidentally' revealed.

It was a painful while before she found the gall to speak again.

"Who..." Her face was as pale as the paperwork she had to sign. "Who did this?"

Regretfully, he peeled his stare off the floor to look at her. "It came with a note. Turn it over."

Pauling tried her best to keep her delicate hands from trembling. She wondered who else knew about this- or more importantly, if the Administrator knew.

'_I know your secret, P. __Convince me to keep it. 10pm. The fountain._'

"Does that hand-writing look familiar to you at all?"

She gave a meek nod. "Spy."

"_Our_ Spy?!" Anger flashed in the Bostonian's eyes, "That cheatin' scumbag! I outta punch a butterfly knife through his teeth."

"No, not our Spy. Red Spy."

"How do you know?"

"It's in red ink." And much to Scout's disbelief, Miss Pauling was smiling. "This is good."

"Good?!" His eyes widened to the size of saucers. "How far out are you from your frickin' mind that you can call this good?"

"Because the Administrator doesn't know."

"Yeah, but Spy has your secret. Frickin' _Spy_." Scout stared at her imploringly, but the calm expression on her face seemed unmovable. "Come on, you can't be that naïve to think he'd do you a favour."

Pauling scoffed as if he had insulted her. "Naive? No. I don't count on him to keep any secrets other than his own. But if he wants to play dirty, two can play at that game."

"What do you mean?"

She smiled. "I have a plan."

Miss Pauling kept her appointment with Red Spy that evening, and because she told herself to remain professional, she made sure to arrive at least 10 minutes early. She had also told Scout to sit this one out, that it was best to let the 'adults' take care of it. The young lad didn't much like the sound of it, insisting that his being there should be mandatory as her 'protector' (he also insisted that he, too, was an adult), but she declined and said she knew how to take care of herself.

"I see you got my message."

Spy had decided to arrive fashionably late. Not so much for the sake of fashion, but to see just how badly Pauling wanted to keep her secret under-wraps. He was such a tease.

"Yes, I did." She greeted him back with no particular trace of emotion. Being late was one of her major pet-peeves, but she'd be damned if she let Spy get the better of her so easily.

The Frenchie took a good measure of his surroundings, noticing Scout was missing. "Where's your boy-toy?"

"I wouldn't know, actually."

"Oh, but I'm sure you do. From what I've seen this week, you can't get enough of each other."

"And what _have_ you seen, Spy?"

"Now, there's no need to play dumb with me, Miss Pauling. I know you know."

She smiled. But it was just a cover-up for the silent anger that boiled beneath. "His whereabouts are not relevant to this meeting."

He gave a deep chuckle. "Protective, non?"

Had Scout been here, he would have lost his cool moments ago. Red Spy enjoyed nothing more than winding people up, and the Bostonian was as easy to wind up as a marching toy soldier. Short fuses were nothing but big red buttons to this man. Pauling was reassured she had made the right choice excluding him from this.

"Shall we talk business?"

Spy fished out a cigarette from his pocket, taking a long and indulgent drag as he eyed the woman before him, savouring every bit of the moment. This was nothing but a game to him.

"Oh yes," He flashed her a devlish grin as he exhaled, the wisps of smoke cradling and lingering about his masked features. "So tell me, how are you going to convince me?"

"No." She said defiantly.

The look on his face turned from wildly amused to astonished. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not giving you anything until you tell me why you decided to tail me for a week."

"Oh, ma petite chou-fleur." He laughed, everything about his manner condescending. He approached her seated form, simply to emphasise that he was the bigger one here. "When there's a scandal, nobody cares about the small details. Do you really think you hold the control here?"

Miss Pauling also rose to her feet, refusing to let him win the power-struggle. "Don't think I don't know who you are. You've been watching me for a week? I've been watching you for years."

A disapproving scoff. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means..." She looked him dead in the eye, "You can't resist walking away when you know you could get a bigger deal. You're greedy, and it always gets the better of you. You just won't settle for second place."

Those dark eyes narrowed into a piercing stare, but he seemed to have no comment to make on the matter.

She smirked, her point proven. "I thought so. So what'll it be, Spy?"

But before Pauling could bask in her triumph, Spy's expression pulled into one of pity.

"Ma chere..." He tutted and cooed with sickening sweetness, brushing the back of his gloved finger down her cheek. "You seem to be under the illusion that you're in control here. We're going to have to fix that."


End file.
